Week 6 Tau Narrative

[IncubiLord]

The narrative portion of all Tau battle reports should be posted here until next week's thread is set up.

While you can choose to play the campaign with a more strategic focus than narrative, your report still requires a story (which does matter, so write something). Remember also that narrative is for advancing the story, not giving a dry, blow-by-blow account of your game.

[easye]

A along the line, battle cannons roared. It was a rolling wave of fire as one tank after the other opened up on the Iron Warriors’ position. Lord Marcus’ ears rang with the boom of heavy guns. The stench of ignition charge surrounded him, and he felt more alive then he had all week.

The “Wardogs” had been chasing ghosts since they arrived here in Genesis. They had come to stomp out Necrons, but those elusive creatures had avoided them. Now there was finally someone to get to grips with. Lord Marcus wondered if the Baron hadn’t planned to encounter these renegade Astartes all along. The Baron had been hungering for their blood. To then run across a fortified camp of them here on Genesis could not be a coincidence.

He stood up through the hatch and watched the enemy position through his scope. The small fortified encampment was shrouded in smoke and dust. A shell smashed a small outbuilding into kindling as a second shell blasted a column of earth high into the morning sky. In the center, a tower stood tall, with the banner of the Iron Warriors draped across its front. Several blast marks marked where shells had impacted harmlessly against its solid walls.

Lord Marcus had no doubt that the marines had taken to their bunker and dug outs long ago. The long barren expanses of Genesis would have made their approach obvious. Now, the 2nd Centarius Armored were standing off and pounding their fortifications well out of range of the enemies return fire. Of course, it was only a matter of time before some one was going to have to route them out up close.

“Lord Marcus, take Black and Blue Squadron and route out those wretches,” The baron’s voice came over the command frequency. “We will provide covering fire until it is no longer feasible. This should allow you to cross the kill zone with minimal resistance.”

Lord Marcus acknowledged the command and buttoned up, “You heard the Baron. Lock and load.”

The two squadrons broke from the firing line and proceeded beneath the barrage to the enemy encampment. They crossed the trench line and rolled over the glacis into the encampment. Broken and ruined buildings lay smoldering all around, but the central tower continued to stand tall. The bombardment halted, after a final shell smashed ineffectively against the tower walls.

Almost instantly, Iron Warriors emerged from their holes in the ground. They weren’t giving up without a fight. A massive creature loomed from the wreckage of a building. Huge wings unfurled and a toothy maw roared out a challenge. Other immense, twisted images of people stirred amongst the wreckage. An enemy dreadnaught battered its way from shelter, its las-cannons pivoting menacingly towards the tanks.

“Holy of Holies,” Lord Marcus’ front gunner swore. A few blasts of high intensity light lanced out of the wreckage. One of Lord Marcus’ flanking tanks shudder to a halt under the barrage.

Immediately, the remaining vehicles swung into action. Las-cannons lanced out, battle cannons roared, heavy bolters stuttered, and auto-cannons thundered. A fusillade of lead and light poured out into the enemy. Much of it was absorbed by rubble and wreckage, but enough struck true. Lord Marcus had never heard a machine scream in impotent rage, but the enemy dreadnaught did just that as it crumbled from a direct hit.

The battle began to become too confusing to follow as each tank commander tried to cover his partner, and stay alive. Weapons fire crisscrossed and lanced over the killing fields. Iron warriors would be tossed aside like some much meal cloth, and tanks sputtered to a halt.

Lord Marcus’ attention was suddenly transfixed as that huge bat winged beast leapt across the battlefield with two powerful strides. He watched in horror as it gutted a nearby tank. The crew scrambling out their escape hatches, only to be caught in the crossfire.

“Reverse!” screamed Lord Marcus. As they backed away, his gunner planted an anti-tank shell square in the things chest. It was thrown to the ground, but stumbled back to its feet cradling it’s chest. It roared out a defiant challenge. Lord Marcus’ gaped in astonishment. How could anything take an anti-tank shell square in the chest and live?

Lord Tarrik’s Exterminator also saw the danger. He did not hesitate, and unloaded everything he had on the beast. It leaned into the storm of iron like a man would lean into a thick rain. Then, it stumbled to one knee, and fell forward. It’s body disappearing in a mist, leaving a set of immense armor on the field of battle. The only reminder of it’s existence.

“Sir, look,” his gunner pointed dumbfounded at his targeting computer. Lord Marcus glanced at his own command monitor. A squad of Iron Warriors had retrieved their banner from the tower, and loading it into a nearby rhino. They fired a few parting shots, before rolling away from the encampment in good order.

[easye]

Locals had told him that the renegade Astartes were here. They had fled from the battle as the Iron Warriors did battle with other creatures of chaos in the streets of their fishing village. As Lord Tarrik observed the ruins of the town from his scope, he could feel the air itself trying to cut into him. The icy winds blew across the ocean from the North, at it bit deep into his skin.

The Baron had unleashed his “Wardogs” on the trail of the Iron Warriors. Wherever they would be found, the “Wardogs” would be there. From Genesis, to Northern Mycenae, and most especially to Castellan in the north; the men of the 2nd Centarius PDF would be there.

Smoke was whisked away high into the air, and was twisted away into nothingness on the winds. The ruins of the village itself were deceptively quite. No Iron Warriors were in sight. Lord Tarrik knew that looks could be deceiving.

The command screen flashed the order to advance. Lord Tarrik’s Exterminator slowly rumbled forward, with Lord Jase’s machine on his left. He heard weapon’s fire on the left flank, which was answered by the roar of the 2nd’s heavier cannons. As they got within striking distance, two massive creatures leapt from behind the remains of a wall. They were huge towers of muscle, garbed in ancient armor that writhed with glittering ruins along their black carapace. Huge iron wings jutted from their broad shoulders. The first brandished a two handed hammer and roared a challenge.

Lord Tarrik stood frozen in place. Stunned. His machine had managed to down one of these monstrosities on Genesis, but two. For a moment he stood transfixed by the sheer horror. The cold grip he had on the hatch ring was the only thing that kept him from running. Luckily, Lord Jase was not so affected. The auto-cannons and heavy bolters opened up, and the crew of Lord Tarrick’s Exterminator did likewise.

The hammer wielding creature wrapped his wings about him, and mass reactive shells blasted harmlessly away at the surface. A battle cannon roared, and the wall behind the two behemoths crumbled to dust. They leapt high into the air and the guns of the “Wardogs” were to slow to track them up. Lord Tarrik crouched down as a massive shadow fell over him. He watched the massive hammer of one of the demons smash the turret clean off one of the Leman Russes following him up. The other smashed straight through the hull of Lord Jase’s tank, turning it into a burning ruin.

Despite the carnage, he couldn’t bring his guns to bear on the beasts. They were screened by the wreckage of his colleagues. No one had managed to bail out of either tank. He frantically scanned the battlefield for targets. He saw the command tanks main gun obliterate a pair of twisted figures with guns bristling from their bodies in unnatural ways. A set of APC’s were racing out from the cover of a ruin towards the central square of the village. Their hulls were lined with spikes and other more grizzly things. What type of beasts’ these Iron Warriors were.

Lord Tarrik pointed at the APC’s and shouted to his gunner, “There. Targets left 20 degrees. Give ‘em hell!” In response the turret swiveled as the Auto-cannons sprayed death. The tracers snaked their way to the side of the second vehicle in column. Lord Tarrik watched as the bolts sunk into the side, and then the entire thing bulged outward and disappeared in a massive fire ball. The concussive wave rocked him backwards in the hatch, and he felt the pain lance through his lower back.

His joy was short lived. The figures that had been thrown from the vehicle by the blast, slowly and unsteadily wobbled to their feet. Their armor scorched and smoking from the blast. Impossible!

Lord Tarrik hardly had time to register the outcome before his heard the scream of metal giving way. He spun around to see one of the great demons tearing the engine from the rear of his machine. He blinked for a second, as the creature tossed the engine block away like it was a mere toy; the rear of his Exterminator just a gaping maw of twisted plasteel.

“Bail! Bail!” He shouted. Lord Tarrik leapt from the turret and tumbled over the side of the tank. Some of his crew popped free of the tank from the side escape hatches. Together, they stumbled across the frosty ground to a nearby wood. Their breath formed small clouds and it crystallized in Lord Tarrik’s moustache.

Everything seemed lost; until the air filled with the smell of ozone, followed by a blue flash. It was accompanied by the sound of the very air being torn like brittle parchment. The standing amidst the chaos and carnage were the massive warriors adorned in grey and gold, in their hands were might halberds. Their implacable nature radiated off them like waves. They quickly leveled their weapons and fired. A torrent of shells found their mark in the flesh of the demon creatures. The one that had destroyed their Exterminator roared in pain.

The large demons fled from these new foes. Behind the massive warriors in grey, smaller forms emerged from the smoke of battle. They were smaller brethren of the initial warriors, and they set about cleansing the battlefield of the Iron Warrior scum. It was obvious to Lord Tarrik that they had used the “Wardogs” attack as a distraction, and now they were moving in to finish of the taint.

As the figures came closer to Lord Tarrik, he could see the sign of the Aquilla. However, it was the golden I of the Inquistion that sent a chill down his spine.